


Birds of a Feather

by pumpkinpeasy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, Anal, Anal Sex, Castiel is 20, Choking, Dean Winchester is Protective of Castiel, Dean is Bad at Feelings, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge, Drop Out Castiel, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Ezekiel being an asshole, Ezekiel is Actually Ezekiel, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Gay Castiel, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Insecurity, M/M, Prostitute Castiel, Prostitution, Rimming, Running Away, Scared Castiel, Sex, Slight OOC, Touch-Starved Castiel, True Love, Twink Castiel, angst that slowly dissolves into smut and fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 17:00:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5634646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumpkinpeasy/pseuds/pumpkinpeasy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein a 20-year-old twink Castiel is a high-school dropout, and was kicked to the curb by his homophobic parents. He's been able to get by, by selling himself on the streets. Till one night, a certain john has different plans. A short story follows their path to fleeing together, birds of a feather.</p><p>Or wherein angst and sadness somehow disintegrate into smut and comfort. Either way, Dean and Cas are fast lovers, quick to fall into eachothers arms, in spite of an age difference made apparent.<br/>[i suck at summaries, sorry]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS: Castiel doesn't have anorexia, nor bulimia, but his eating habits are hardly healthy. His perception of himself is also unhealthy. These chapters do include displays of violence, especially towards Castiel for his homosexuality and prostitution of himself. He also shows signs of slight, but controllable PTSD.

Cas was cold.  
  
Shivering, frozen, and lost. He held his jacket tight around himself, looking hopelessly around at the busy city. It was overcast, mid-morning, rainy weather. He watched the cars whoosh past, people move with unbelievable speed, determination, whereas he stood there, confused and not even sure where he was. He dug his fingers into the old, worn fabric of his jacket, continuing down the street.  
  
Cas's breath came out in white, misty pants, vaguely warm on the air. He kept walking, trying to look as inconspicuous as he could, when, in actuality, he probably looked like he'd just murdered ten people. He was so scared. Scared that he was going to get caught, one of these days, after he’d serviced a john.  
  
Cas was terrified of getting caught, like most. The painful twinge in his ass was a friendly reminder of what had just happened, just like the extra 150 bucks in his pocket. He just kept breathing, making an effort to keep going until he found the place he was looking for. More cars, flying past him on the interconnecting streets, people going about their usual business as thunder rumbled loud in the distance. Beneath it all, he could hear cries of his mind. Vicious, sad little whines of bending thoughts, in the back of his mind. Amongst the fading, dying echoes of anger; from memories he'd forgotten.  
  
He didn't know.  
  
Cas pressed on, quietly walking down the street, till he saw it; the big, concrete building. His heart flushed with relief, seeing the old, rusted metal and fogged-up windows, the crackling asphalt before it. Cas was fairly new to the city. Other than the known red-light districts, he didn’t know many other places; he’d just moved on from Junction City, and ended up in Lawrence.  
  
It was easy for him to get lost, and when he did… Nevermind that. He rushed across the street, grinning, because he'd finally found his way back. Cas ran up the steps, chasing down his target that was the front door, and pushing it open. The door swung inside, and he was allowed to shelter from the freezing-cold. He sighed again, but this time out of consolation. His body was shaking, quivering from the biting, icy weather.  
  
He walked upstairs, losing himself in the four flights up. His apartment wasn't the best, but it would do, for right now. With trembling numb fingers, he unlocked the door, out of breath by the time he got to it. Inside, it was slightly trashier than the outside. Walking through it was messy. Clothes were scattered in a disarray, around the bare mattress that was on the floor. A disheveled pile of papers were stacked neglectfully on the desk, books, journals, schoolbooks and whatnot, also in the same shape.  
  
Cas rubbed his arms, teeth chattering angrily. He could feel the grime on his skin from the past several days, but he hadn't dared to use the shower that would try to fucking murder him. But... It was about time. Even though he'd rather curl up into the sheets, filthy and mussed, just to get warmer, he reluctantly stripped naked and got in the shower.  
  
It wasn't so bad at first.  
  
The hot water wasn't hot, but it at least kept him from dying. Jesus, this was a bad idea. He didn't have any winter clothes; couldn't afford them, with the rising apartment bills. He shivered horribly, making him cringe violently and arch forward, black hair soaking wet. Cas could feel his head throbbing from the allergens, his body thrumming for the cold. Tears prickled in his eyes, and then he suddenly couldn't refrain from crying.  
  
He'd tried to find a job, for nearly a month, now. Nobody was fucking hiring, was the problem. That douchey barista down the street had told him where he could find a job, and it had turned out to be a kennel. Probably where he thought Cas belonged. Why not? The rest of his family thought enough of him. He couldn't stop, wracking sobs shuddering through his body, tears leaking from his stinging eyes. He'd have given that barista a piece of his mind, if he wasn't so desperate. Cas felt the water suddenly go out-and-out freezing, and jumped from the shower. He wrapped himself in a towel, trying to keep calm as he turned off the water. He was close enough to clean that he could function.  
  
There were those cries again. The whining of his mind, the broken laughter, the shattered memories of what he'd seen as a child. He shuddered and walked out into the apartment. He had to keep looking for a job. He couldn't shrug off the trauma, the thoughts and recollections that would haunt him. And they would- they would haunt him till the end of his days, he knew that much. But he had to focus on right-now, the moment in which he was living. Anything after that was going to be the death of him.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
Cas ran as fast as he could.  
  
The world was grey, silver and white, blackened out. No color. He was running, heart thundering louder than the rain itself, body numb. He could hear the sounds of it; the crying. Metal. It was all there, and so much louder. On some level, he knew what was happening. He tried to forget it. Something grabbed his leg, and tripped him up, sending him face-first into the pavement. He screamed, strained his vocal chords, and nothing came out at all. It was all gone, all gone. All of it.  
  
He screamed again, feeling something else wrap around his ankles and drag him out of the street. Cas was flipped onto his back and slapped hard across the face, then punched, beaten, kicked in every inch they could reach. He cried, screamed, kicked and yelled for anyone to come help, but felt attacked from every angle. He kept his eyes shut, his mind and body separate from it. He couldn't face it. Not now and not ever-

"This is _your_ fault!" Hester screamed, landing another kick straight to his gut. "You just couldn't be like the _rest_ _of us!"_  
  
"You couldn't _handle_ it!" Gabriel yelled, doing the same.  
  
He couldn't listen.

They were lies, figments of his imagination, subconscious junk that his mind was dredging up to hurt him. He cried out with every kick and scratch and cut, every single one of his family members beating him to mulch. Cas felt his bones crack, somewhere in there, tendons tore. He couldn't scream, he couldn't cry or tell them to stop.  
  
He didn't have a voice.  
  
  
Cas jolted awake with a start, flailing at what was around him, fighting for air.  
  
He was gasping wetly, successfully having knocked over an empty cup by his bed. Blood rushing, sweat dripping, his heart pounding was the only thing he could hear, like drums in his head. He clutched at the mattress, squirming, trying to get feeling back into his body. Cas held onto the bed, as if it grounded him to this place, looking around the room. He shook the still-wet hair out of his face, chilled to the fucking bone, as he scrabbled for the bedsheets.  
  
He wrapped himself tight in the thin fabrics, shuddering, teeth clacking... God, he needed to find a job. This wasn't working. He needed to make it on his own, he needed to prove that he could be useful, he needed to get his mind away from what had happened to him, and...  
  
Before he could stop it, he was in tears again. This wasn't working; none of it was working.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
Castiel had tried to forget it. He’d tried so vigilantly, to forget everything that had happened in those months he’d spent in Topeka, where he’d been groped, horribly touched and... violated. He still tried so hard, to forget about what had happened, the terrible feelings and pain that he’d gone through, simply at the hands of a john who didn’t want to pay. He’d tried to drown them in liquor. He’d tried to drown them in sex, and in growing his hair longer, and changing his appearance. He’d tried scraping the memories out of his brain and washing them down the kitchen sink, he’d… If he could have one night, where he went unmolested… Was that too much to ask?  
  
That disgusting, broken man who’d grabbed him and dragged him into an alley, beat him up for what he was. Cried out curses and spit on him, punched him square in the face until he was dizzied beyond comprehension. Cas was well and truly, on his own. It wasn’t like he could ask for help, from anyone he knew. Attracting his bitter family’s attention. Attracting the unyielding and pervasive attention of potent, unfeeling, unreasoning, resentful hellraisers… He couldn’t afford that.  
  
Cas was standing on the curb of Pegasus St., walking quietly, trying to show off what assets he had. He’d fixed his eyeliner, and put some extra sheen on his lips with lipgloss. A pair of tight-fitting ripped jeans, and a black fishnet top under his jacket, clearly displayed what he was selling. Cas cringed hard. What would his family think, of what he was doing with his body…? How would they react, if he knew that Castiel was giving himself up as a virtual fucktoy for his johns, and that he was regularly groped, felt up, smacked, literally pushed around, like he was nothing… Cas was startled out of his thoughts, when a loud rumbling of thunder came from overhead. He heard a few other streetwalkers exclaim softly, and then the sound of their shoes hitting the pavement. Maybe he could just stay under an overhanging roof, like he usually did?  
  
Cas would have to see.  
  
However, by the time it was typically rush hour, it was raining buckets. Water poured down in sheets, soaking everything and anyone that was outside, pooling in the streets, in potholes. It was really quite dangerous out here for anyone to drive, and not exactly the prime time for johns to come looking. Cas eventually gave in, and kept walking beneath the line of overhanging roofs, just starting back to his apartment.  
  
He was shivering and starkly-pale, teeth chattering badly, when he heard the loud, rumbling engine of an approaching car. Barely able to see through the rain, he could tell it was nice, a sleek midnight-black, and classy. It slowed down, purring through the street alongside the curb Cas was walking. He crouched over to peer in the window, as the car dragged to a halt beside him. A figure reached over and rolled down the window, peeking up at Cas.  
  
“Need a ride?” came a man’s voice.  
  
“Sure.” Cas called back through the rainfall.  
  
“Get in.” the man laughed, and opened the door. Cas obliged quickly, and crawled inside, briefly splashing into a puddle.  
  
It was much safer in there; he could already feel it, before he’d even shut the door. The rain was covering the glass, their breaths blotching up the windows, when Cas turned to look at him, swiping an errant lock of wet hair behind his ear. He’d hit the jackpot, to say the least. This guy was a walking, talking Ken Doll, right down to the pouty pink lips and the swoon-worthy hair. Cas felt kind of small, next to the likes of him. He blinked a few times, and smiled.  
  
“Thank you.” he said earnestly, “It’s freezing out there.”  
  
“Yeah, they say it’s gonna get pretty cold.” the man said, “So, where ya goin? I’m Dean, by the way.”  
  
“I’m Cas, by the way. And… I’m going however far you like.” Cas murmured, and Dean’s eyes widened a bit, as he raked his eyes over the prostitute’s form. By the look on his face, he was definitely putting two and two together, about to get four.  
  
“Oh.” was his first word. “Uh… I, uhm… Sorry, Cas, but I’m not on the market. D’you have a place, you can go?”  
  
“Oh… well, that’s-- a-ahem, that’s fine. Well, I have a place, but it’s ac-cross town.” Cas stuttered, the chattering in his teeth becoming too hard to hide, his jaw starting to hurt.  
  
Dean suddenly pressed the back of his hand to Cas’s forehead, and made a face. He swept back a few errant strands of Cas’s nearly-black hair, and wiped off some of the water from his face. “You’re freezing cold.” he said, his sweet, slightly gruff voice tinged with pity. “How old are you, Cas?”  
  
Cas just scoffed, “If I was too young, y’think I’d be doing this?”  
  
“Yeah... pretty much.” Dean said. “Look, times were, I’d have considered it myself, but, really, Cas. How old are you?”  
  
Cas took in a deep, rattling breath, just closing his eyes for a minute. Damnit, it shouldn’t be this hard for him. He’s just a stranger. Just a very concerned, fatherly stranger. Cas gave a tense shrug, but Dean just raised his eyebrows disbelievingly. Finally, he had to just spit it out.  
  
“I’m twenty.”  
  
“Okie-dokie.” he chuckled wryly, kicking the car into gear. “You want something to eat? I know I do.”  
  
Cas’s heart fluttered a little. Honestly, a meal sounded beyond amazing right now, even if it be from a total ghost. Putting aside the demeaning, slightly discrediting tone that Dean used, he was literally starving. Cas had given a lot more, for a lot less; he could spare a few minutes. He smiled, and almost laughed.  
  
“Yeah. Really, food sounds awesome.” Cas chuckled shyly, an unwanted flush creeping into his neck at the thought.  
  
“Great. Like burgers?”  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
The restaurant was big and open, filled with other people, even at this time of night. Typically fat American-looking guys, who were eating so loudly that Cas could hear them from across the room. The place was nicer than some of the joints that he’d typically eat from, that being either a McDonald’s or some scuzzy food truck. Nonetheless, he tightened his jacket around himself, keeping it zipped up to cover the most obvious hooker article of clothing that he was wearing. The stupid fishnet top was mostly hidden by his leather jacket, which was bloody-red and also the choice attire of the prostitutes of the times.  
  
“Cas, relax. Nobody’s watching you.” Dean chuckled, almost concerned. He reached out and patted his shoulder warmly. “It’s cool.”  
  
“Yeah, well…” he mumbled, shrugging it off. “Most places, they’d kick me out. Even some Burger King-type joints’ve got sartorial standards, I guess.”  
  
Cas shifted again and looked around, obviously checking to see if the food was coming or not. He probably looked a little pathetic, but he couldn’t help it. When the food finally showed up, Cas gave a thankful crooked smile to Dean, who immediately tucked in, as well. He didn’t seem to mind Cas’s eating like a starved dog, but he did his best to be quiet, anyway. God, it tasted amazing… Whatever Dean had insisted on ordering for him, was like heaven stuffed into a sandwich. Dean moaned softly around what he was eating, eyes sort of scrunched shut, looking a bit like a squirrel with his cheeks shoved full of food.  
  
“So, d’you do this often?” Cas mumbled.  
  
“What? Eat?”  
  
“No.” Cas shook his head, swallowing. He shrugged again, chuckling. “Take random strangers off the street... to a restaurant, and feed them?”  
  
“No, not really. But I’m not that worried about it.” he said, muffled through another giant bite of his sandwich. “You seem like a nice guy.”  
  
“Sweetheart, we barely know eachother.” Cas advised, cocking an eyebrow and taking a sip of his soda. Dean nodded along, severely unconcerned. Cas was tracing a french fry in ketchup, when he looked up at Dean again. “So, you were kinda shocked at my age.”  
  
“Yeah. I mean, not that you look old, but just… You’re pretty young to be hooking.” he muttered, dropping the last word a bit quieter than the rest. “Really, just… What gotcha into it?”  
  
“Hmmh. You talk about it, like it’s a bowling league.” Cas said a bit disdainfully, popping the fry into his mouth. “My parents found out I was queer; booted me out. Never finished high school, so I can’t really get a job. Pretty much, all the money I bring in comes from hooking.”  
  
Dean’s face fell, just listening to Cas talk the way he did. Like it was nothing more than a simple misunderstanding between him and his parents, and that shit like this happens for a reason or whatever. Cas knew what he probably sounded like, and he didn’t mean to unload on Dean, but he asked. The guy bit his lip for a minute, pretty green eyes fixed on a spot on the table. Cas just admired the sexy locks of honey-blond hair, and the freckled, sunkissed skin for a while. He looked back up at Cas, after a moment.  
  
“What’s wrong?” Cas asked defensively, a bit sharper than he’d wanted.  
  
“Nothing.” Dean shook his head, “Nothing. Just… eat your burger.”  
  
Once they had finished eating, Cas felt horrible. His stomach was going to explode, he swore it; not for as long as he could remember, had he eaten that much all at once. His acquaintance had packed away a bit more, though. Dean had paid for everything, much to Cas’s utter guilt, even though he hadn’t picked what he’d ordered. Whatever… Dean was escorting him outside, back to the car. Cas just didn’t understand this guy’s habits. He was older, that much was evident, and he probably didn’t make a routine out of taking other dudes to Biggerson’s and buying them dinner. At the same time, he didn’t see the prospect of Dean being a customer. With him in the backseat, Dean started driving again, quiet as ever, somewhat brooding, just… Cas sighed.  
  
It wasn’t until a couple of tears leaked down his cheeks, that he realised that he’d been crying. Cas quickly wiped at them, and looked out the window.  
  
“Thank you.” Cas murmured, Dean looking up into the rearview. “You’re really, just amazing.”  
  
“Yeah, well... Least I could do, y’know?”  
  
Cas shook his head despairingly. “No… I don’t, know.” he said softly, his voice little more than an undertone. He watched Dean’s brow furrow slightly, then relax into something more anguished, but he turned his gaze upon the road again.  
  
“You said that… you’d considered it, yourself.” Cas added, “Hooking, I guess?”  
  
“Yeah. Basically.” Dean said. “Look, me and my brother, we were going through tough times, more often than not. Sometimes, it seemed like it would be easier that hustling pool, just take the easy way out, but…”  
  
The easy way out? Dean let the words trail away with a shrug. The easy way out… Really. To Dean, was getting molested every other night, getting paid fifty bucks each time, and just being kicked out of the motel room afterward, a better, easier way out? Cas had spent half a year homeless, before he’d saved up enough dirty money to pay for a flat, and even then, he was always on the brink of being booted to the curb. And... Crap!  
  
“Hey, Dean?” he asked quietly, “Can you take me back to my corner? The rain seems to be slowing down.”

“Back to your… Your corner? No way.”

“I mean, thanks for… everything. You really have no idea how much it means to me… But I still got bills to pay, so unless you’re a customer, I gotta go.” Cas explained, Dean’s eyes narrowing concernedly at him, glinting a little in the starlight. “Please.”  
  
Dean’s grip tightened on the steering wheel so hard, the flesh of his knuckles was turning white. He let out a grumbling sigh, but there was nothing more he could do. He’d fed him, and given what he could, but the kid was tenacious. He could never imagine leaving a kid, barely twenty years old, to work the streets, especially alone. And especially when he was some pervert’s wet dream come to life, all skinny and boyish, offering up his own body on a silver platter for anyone who had fifty bucks handy. Still... Dean nodded his agreeance, and drove them back to Cas’s corner.  
  
By the time they got back, the rain had indeed stopped, as Cas had predicted, and they’d listened to about five rounds of Bob Seger, and Guns n’ Roses. Cas had learnt a little about this guy’s choice in music, over the course of about half an hour. Dean pulled up to the side of the road, slowly dragging the Impala to a halt. Cas was toying with a cassette tape, reading the front and back, when he saw something that made him cry out.  
  
“You utter bitch!” he yelled, and scrambled across the backseat.  
  
“What?!” Dean asked, trying to see what he was seeing.  
  
Without another word, Cas tumbled out of the car, and started towards a lamppost, where… Oh. There was a girl there, leaning against the pole, and clearly in the same line of work as Cas was. Dean was cursing and clambering out of the car, as he saw the two hookers getting into it by the post. Cas was relentless, even as Dean approached them.  
  
“You bitch. This is my side of the street!” said the girl, fierce locks of red hair bouncing.  
  
“No, it’s _not!_ I’m here twenty-four-seven!” Cas argued, shoving the chick forcefully. She stumbled back, an incredulous look on her face. “Get out!”  
  
“Sorry, honey- Finders keepers.” she growled, “Maybe you should go where all the other cocksuckers hang out, I’m sure they’d love ya.”  
  
Then, she spat in Cas’s face, and the two were on eachother like cats. The redhead was clawing and slapping at Cas repeatedly, as he tried to shove her off of him, ramming her into the lamppost a couple of times.  
  
“Hey-- _Hey!”_ Dean shouted, but Cas had swung a punch in her direction, and hit her squarely in the face.  
  
Everything seemed to be silent for half a second, when Red tackled him and they were crashing into the brick wall of a building. Dean ran after them, wrapping arms around the chick from behind, and trying to pry her off of Cas, gripping the leather of her jacket so hard that it almost tore. “Stop!” Dean shouted, but it did virtually nothing.  
  
“Faggot!” Red cried out, getting a set of long, deep scratches across Cas’s face. “This was _my_ fuckin’ corner before you came along, you _skank!”_  
  
Cas growled and kicked her in the leg, Dean finally able to lift her off, and drag her from him. She flailed a bit, spitting curses and slurs, and calling Cas all sorts of things that would probably elicit a police response, if this wasn’t a red-light district. She wrestled out of Dean’s grip, and stumbled a few feet away.  
  
“Queer bitch!” she spat at Cas, over her shoulder. “Fucking... _pillow-biter.”_  
  
Cas made a disgusted noise from behind Dean, who turned around and saw him spitting out blood. A small splatter of the scarlet fluid hit the pavement, and he held Cas upright. He had scratches on his cheeks, a bruising wound over his eye, on top of the blood dripping from his mouth.  
  
“Hey. Hey, you okay?” Dean asked, and he nodded. “Who was that?”  
  
Cas rolled his eyes, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “Abbie. She trolls around, taking hotspots. Just pissed off that I’m _getting more ass than her!”_ he shouted at the redhead, who was nearing the end of the street by now.  
  
Cas sniveled and licked at his lips, tasting the coppery bitterness of blood pooling on his tongue. He wasn’t crying. He was just… why was he shaking…? He just shuddered and backed away from Dean, tightening his jacket around himself. His mind was thrumming, or maybe it was his body, but he needed to be here, anyway. Dean’s eyes were downcast, after he’d sufficiently realised that Cas was alright, but he was nonetheless catching glimpses of him.  
  
“Well, thanks, Dean. But I’ve gotta get back to work.” Cas said abruptly, “Uhm… If you want to give me your number, though, you can come back on a discount.”  
  
Dean obviously didn’t like the smile on Cas’s face, nor his attitude towards selling his body and giving discounts, whatnot. His distasteful expression and the way he didn’t look at him, said it all. From what he’d seen, Dean probably thought Cas had more emotional dysfunctions than he did, but that didn’t stop him from returning the small smile.  
  
“Yeah, thanks, Cas. Me and my brother are heading out, soon, so… I doubt it. But...” Dean said, taking out a paper from his jacket, “If you get in trouble, you can call me anytime.”  
  
“Mmkay…” Cas finished awkwardly, suddenly blushing a bit. Whether out of his little crush, or out of embarrassment, Dean wouldn’t know. All he needed to know, was that it was time for him to leave.  
  
Even so reluctantly, he mumbled a brief goodbye to Cas, who took the paper shyly and watched Dean climb into his car. His heart almost ached, as he slid the key home and started the car.  
  
Driving away, eyes fixed in the rearview, Dean watched Cas’s figure get smaller in the distance, as he left. The pretty black hair and soft skin would be missed; even that stupid red jacket. But Dean wished, with all his heart he wished, that Cas would be safe. He couldn’t control everything, and he couldn’t save everyone, though he tried. Once the kid was out of the view, he just focused on getting back to Sam. Back to the motel.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
Cas stood boldly at his street corner, after Dean had left. His mind sat heavily on the topic of Dean, and Dean, and just all of it, Dean. He’d never entered a relationship so quickly, and it almost made him sick. But then, Dean had said that it was anything but a relationship, so he didn’t have much to worry over, did he? It still hurt, though...; the idea that this guy had literally just thrown him a little pity party, fed him and made him warm, out of nothing more than feeling sorry for him.  
  
Cas was strolling absently along the sidewalk, when he heard footsteps coming his way. The shadow had barely made itself apparent, before the man was practically on top of him.  
  
His heart stopped when he saw who it was. He was taller, bigger; well-built and strongly-featured. His eyes were an unforgettable hazel-grey, and he had muscles that seemed to span for miles against Cas’s. But he didn’t stop there - he was moving forward, not at all surprised that he saw Cas where he was.  
  
“No-- No, just leave me alone!” Cas yelled at him, backpedaling so fast that he almost tripped himself up. “Just stay away from me!”  
  
“Castiel…” he scolded darkly, shaking his head at him, “You need to find a new line of work.”  
  
Cas grabbed his butterfly knife from inside his jacket, flipping it open and aiming right in Zeke’s direction. “You need to get back.” he demanded, voice shaking. “That’s what…”  
  
In a split second, Cas was on his heel and sprinting the opposite direction, Zeke steady on his trail, but he was the one with the knife. He was screaming at him, to get away, and to leave him the fuck alone, just get out of here, but somehow Zeke managed to catch him. Cas was choked back by the collar of his jacket, Zeke’s arms coiling around him from behind and one hand clamping tight over his mouth before he could voice any more screams.  
  
“Hush… Hush, I’m here.” he whispered softly, “I’m here.”  
  
“Mmmgh…” Cas whined against the tight grip of Zeke’s hand, “Mnngh-- mm!”  
  
He was suddenly being dragged backward, and slung into the alleyway, just thrown onto the hard asphalt and left to get to his feet. A few footfalls later, Zeke was beside him, and kicking him hard in the gut-- Cas cried out and toppled onto his side, as his opponent pulled him behind the dumpster and shoved him viciously against the metal. He was slammed into the trash bin, over and over, smashing the side of his face against it, and keeping him pinned to the ground as Zeke smacked him hard across the face.  
  
“Please-- Zeke; I won’t say anything--”  
  
“Yes you will…” he hissed, shoving him hard onto the ground again. “You’ll say plenty, real nice. You wanna know why?”  
  
Cas squirmed against him.  
  
“Because you’re not going to leave, this time.” he ordered, punching Cas hard in the chest, “You’re not leaving, and I promise you… After this, every inch of you will hurt.”  
  
_“Please!”_ Cas pleaded with him, but Zeke knotted his fingers in that dark hair, and threw his head against the dumpster one more time. Cas’s head fell forward, unconscious, his body open to anything Zeke had in mind for him. And hell if that wasn’t the most satisfying thing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS: During the sex scene, there is some choking, but it's consensual. I promise.

Dean heard the shower before he woke up. He heard the loud, thick spraying of water landing on tile walls in sheets, and the quiet bumping around that had to be Sam. He groaned, scrunching into a rather oddly-shaped ball under the quilts, just wanting to sleep for a little while longer. The sun was at his back, briefly warm and inviting after the cold winter showers, and he could already hear the tweeting of birds outside.  
  
Suddenly, he felt a pang of recollection from last night. From when he’d told Sammy about Cas, the kid he’d met on the side of the road. He’d taken it in stride, understanding Dean’s sympathy, for the most part. He wondered how the kid was doing, anyway. If he’d made it back to his apartment alright. The water abruptly ceased flow, and the shower curtain was audibly pulled back. Dean rubbed at his eyes.  
  
The clock read 7:34am. Dean groaned softly, just as Sam was coming from the bathroom, hair sopping wet. He was just pulling on his flannel, when he chuckled at Dean’s still-dozing, disheveled appearance.  
  
“Morning, sunshine.” he said, tapping on Dean’s shoulder.  
  
“Mmmh.” Dean growled in response, as he heard the buzzing of his phone on the table. Sam promptly took his phone and waved it in front of his face, to which end, Dean grabbed it and shoved Sam away. He sighed and answered it without looking. “Hello?”

 _“Dean?...”_ came a high, terrified little voice. _“Dean…”_  
  
“Cas, that you?” he asked, suddenly much more awake, and pulling himself into a sitting position. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”  
  
_“Dean, please, I just… I don’t know what…”_ Cas cut himself off in a wave of sobbing, and Dean could hear the phone jerking in his hand, as the kid struggled to maintain himself. _“Dean, he attacked me...”_  
  
Cas’s sobbing was so profound, that Dean hardly caught the last bit, but he heard enough. “Cas, where are you? Are you hurt?”  
  
“What’s happening?” Sam asked, but Dean held up a hand to keep him silent.  
  
Dean was starting to panic, when he only heard Cas’s raw-throated, shallow panting. He’d seemed like a loose cannon before, and now it’d just exploded. Cas sniveled, and he mustered up the courage to tell him. _“I-I… I’m fine.”_ he lied so poorly, that it was sad in itself. _“I’m at Thompson Street, where… I’m here..”_  
  
“Alright, Cas, just calm down and hold on, okay? Me and Sammy are coming to get you, and we’ll be there in a few minutes. Okay?” Dean said hurriedly, though trying his best to stay as comforting and affectionate as possible. “Okay?”  
  
_“Okay.”_  
  
Then, Cas was back in a tide of tears. “Shh, it’s alright. We’ll be there, just hang on.”  
  
With that, Cas hang up and Dean did the same, the hunter grabbing his clothes from the foot of the bed and yanking them on, as quickly as humanly possible. He knew he shouldn’t be so freaked to hell about some random kid, but this was impossible to ignore.  
  
“Sammy, c’mon, now.” he said.  
  
“Dean, I can’t.” Sam fought, Dean turning around to face him. “I’ve gotta go! The airport. Jess, remember?”  
  
Jess was coming into town. He didn’t know how he could have forgotten that… Dean shook it off and gestured hurriedly for Sam to get dressed and go. If he was going to have to go pick up this kid by himself, so be it. He wasn’t about to make Sam miss his first visit with his very pregnant wife, in the past three months. Alone, it was.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *

Cas was sitting beside the street sign, frozen fingers clinging to the metal pole as he waited. The burning, aching pains in his body were a friendly reminder of what he’d woken up to. Bruised and cut, body freezing and dirty beside the dumpster, his head a throbbing mess. All he could do, was wait where Dean said he’d pick him up, and hope that nobody was watching him, or waiting for him. He was trembling and clinging to the pole as if it were a life vest, eyes wide and ears alert for any sudden movements. His mouth hurt when he licked his lips, for the split lower one.  
  
His heart soared when he saw the large, shiny black car cruising into Thompson St., only one person inside. Dean had explained that Sam was busy, and that was fine; he didn’t need multiple witnesses to his fight. Dean had welcomed him into the Impala with open arms, willing to console him for as long as it took.  
  
“Cas, you’re fuckin’ freezing-- How long you been out here?” he asked, holding Castiel’s frozen, trembling hands.  
  
Cas shrugged slightly, “I-I dunno, just like… last night.”  
  
“Last night-- You’re gonna get fuckin’ hypothermia, dammit.” Dean said, pulling off his jacket. Without another word, he wrapped it around Cas and helped him into it.  
  
It was bigger, granted, but the thick canvas should help conserve heat more than Cas’s fishnet top and leather. He zipped it all the way up to Cas’s chin, gently tilting his jaw to look at the largest bruise. Dean shook his head and started the car. Castiel was trying to cover some of the larger tears in his jeans, less out of cold and more out of embarrassment for the exposed paper-white skin. He wasn’t exactly the healthiest person in the world, but nonetheless. Dean gave him an affectionate cuff on the shoulder, and started driving them to his apartment.  
  
  
Cas’s place wasn’t too far from Thompson St., only about eight blocks from there to the building. Dean didn’t look too impressed by it at first, but right now, Castiel couldn’t really care less. It was selfish, but he just wanted to get inside with or without Dean, and try to get warmer. He somewhat reluctantly pulled up to the crappy-looking building, which obviously couldn’t afford to fix the cracks and rust on the outside, briefly offering to take Cas back to his motel room.  
  
“Y’know, it’s got heat.” Dean said, scrunching his nose at the joint. “And water.”  
  
Cas gave a reluctant chuckle. “Thanks, but my stuff is all here, and I’ve gotta at least check in on it.” he said with a hapless shrug, “You wanna come inside?”  
  
For a moment, Dean’s mouth hung open as he blinked at the building, before he worked his jaw and smiled. “Sure.” he said, “Why not.”  
  
Cas’s heart most certainly did not flutter. It did not. He just led Dean inside and up the four flights of stairs to the apartment. It was just the same as when he’d left it; the magical clean-up fairies hadn’t fixed it during his little adventure. Newspaper clippings, a spilt bottle of pencils, and a couple of take-out containers were littered on the floor, for Cas to grab and shove into their proper places. He tossed his keys onto the small folding table, and made an open-armed gesture around his flat.  
  
“This is it; my, uh, apartment.” he chuckled wryly.  
  
“Cool. ‘s nice. It’s, uh…”  
  
“I know what it is.” Cas cut across, almost cracking a smirk. “You don’t have to lie. It’s a dirty closet.”  
  
Dean made a disapproving face, shaking his head. “I wasn’t gonna say _that.”_

Cas narrowed his eyes at him, till he relaxed slightly and nodded at the place. He thought so. He rubbed his hands together briskly, leaning against the kitchen counter, trying to get the chill out of them. Dean looked around at the place, judging Cas’s grunge posters on the wall, hung up with peeling tape. He smiled at Dean’s expression, his mouthing wordless profanities at the posters.  
  
“So, uh, what do you do for _fun?”_ Dean asked, turning to Cas as he wandered about the small place.

“Sleep, usually.” Cas replied, “Or music, whichever I have time for.”  
  
Dean nodded. “Why don’t you change into something more warm?” he suggested, “You still look really cold.”  
  
“Is this your pervy way of getting me to strip for you?” Cas chuckled, heading for his closet. Dean blushed hot as the much younger man walked by, but little did he know that Castiel’s heart was thundering again. The stress of the past couple days wasn’t good for him, he knew that.  
  
He pulled off his jackets and placed them on a night stand, peeling off his fishnet top next. Underneath his clothes, Castiel was even scrawnier than Dean had imagined, no doubt. He knew his shoulderblades stuck out a bit, his muscles not very toned either, minimal fat thinning more over his ribs and exposing them. There were purple bruises, cuts here and there, over his torso.  
  
“Cas, hey. Maybe I should disinfect those?” he offered, reaching out and touching Cas’s shoulder, barely grazing a wound.  
  
“They’re fine, Dean.”  
  
A minute or so passed, tense and strained every second. “I just… I don’t wanna see you be hurt.” he said softly, Dean’s hand rubbing between his shoulderblades. “You’re just… You’re so young, and--”  
  
Cas twisted in his grip, and ended it with a kiss. He didn’t want to hear his apologies, or his regrets for him. Cas’s lips pressed to Dean’s, reaching up and cupping his face with two scrawny hands, like skilled pale spiders. Dean was suddenly parting the kiss, his emerald eyes bright with comprehension, before he leaned back in and deepened the kiss. His arms entwined them, embracing Cas with all the attention of a devoted caregiver.  
  
Dean’s lips made love to his, working soft and needy over Cas’s full, rosy ones, their plush and velvety skin feeling like a wonder. The older man’s hands lightly ran down his torso, caressing the barely-there outline of bones stacked at his sides. They stroked gently on his hips, his belly. Cas couldn’t remember the last time someone was so careful and warmhearted with his spindly form.  
  
Dean licked at his lips, asking for entrance, as he was cupping Castiel’s face with two sweet-tempered hands that only moved in ways of love. He let his arms drape around Dean’s neck, as he allowed his mouth slack for his taking.  
  
The man moaned softly into his mouth, tongue explorative and tender as it licked over teeth and tongue alike. His fingers knotted in Dean’s soft hair, eyes closed, mouth stolen.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
In the back of Cas’s mind, there was Zeke. Beating him, and dragging his squirming body across the asphalt as he spat curses at him like nothing. There were Zeke’s hands, around his throat, fisted and swinging at his face. His boots, kicking him in the gut till he cried.  
  
In the front of his mind, he was being kissed beautifully in his apartment, clinging to the older man’s jacket as he was cornered against the wall. Cas felt so hot, the groans and grunts of two partners in crime filling his ears, sighs from the older man dripping down his spine like honey, pooling at the base of his groin. Dean smothered him in kisses, alternating between nipping and mouthing hungrily at Cas’s face and neck, to kissing tender and hot, a fervor Cas hadn’t felt in a long time.  
  
Hands wandered; grabbing, groping, sliding over eachother and back again, to come to rest at shoulders or on hips.  
  
“Dean…” Cas mouthed into the man’s jacket, breathing in the dark, smoky smell, as he let his back flatten completely against the wall. His cock was throbbing as hard as fast as his heart, as Dean’s hands fell to his thighs, squeezing.  
  
It didn’t bother him, amazingly enough, that Cas was unbuilt and scrawny as fuck, even though he was Dean’s height. Bones weren’t fun to be poked with in the middle of lovemaking; being jabbed by a protruding hipbone wasn’t typically deemed as “sexy”. Nor were thin fingers and knobbly knees. But Dean was there, touching him, invading his mouth with his tongue, licking over every inch. In that moment, Dean captured him in a deeper, more longing kiss, licking and smooching hard, with practise. His lips kissed hot and heavy unto Cas’s, leaving him a gooey mess pinned to the wall. He was left with wet lips, flushed cheeks, his face an unvarnished portrait of rapture as Dean was grinding against the hot, solid bulge between his thighs.  
  
Their cocks dragged together, the heated denim giving them a friction they needed. Cas’s eyes fluttered shut, lashes shadowy fans that darkened rosy cheeks. Cas’s hips pushed forward, earning a low groan from his counterpart. Even in the dim light, he saw Dean’s eyes darkening; Those swampy gorgeous greens, now a mere ring around a pool of black.  
  
“You’re so beautiful.” Dean purred, nice and low. He nuzzled and rubbed over Cas’s cheeks. His scruff was nice and rough against Cas’s soft skin, the younger one taking pleasure in the scratch. “So young and pretty, Cas… God, I can’t.”  
  
Cas leaned his head back in a deep sigh, as Dean ground against him again. “‘m so hard… feel so tight.”  
  
“Come here.” Dean whispered, as he was undoing Cas’s belt. Dean was stronger than him, more muscled, and it gave Cas the chills. It was the best kind of fear.  
  
In an instant, Dean wrapped his arms around him, and lifted him from his feet with a triumphant grunt. His heart rushed and swelled, lungs constricting. It shouldn’t feel so good to be grabbed up and thrown into bed, but part of Cas liked that Dean could just pick him up and have his possessive, gruff way with him. He hit the mattress with a heavy thud, and watched as Dean discarded his jackets, shirt, and Cas unbuckled Dean’s pants. The older man crawled atop him, pressing his weight into him, his hands running through Cas’s hair.  
  
His body was so warm and so hard against his, it was almost beautiful. Dean nibbled at his cheek, making it flush harder. Cas knew that the man liked how soft he was, his young body, the fresh-to-the-world innocence. Cas liked the strong, practised lovemaking that Dean had to offer.  
  
When Dean pulled off Cas’s jeans, his heart jumped in places he didn’t know it could. His underwear were also stripped away, both cast to the floor and out of sight.  
  
“Do they do it like this?” Dean murmured, lying atop Cas’s torso, the younger man’s dick sliding hard against his stomach. “They treat you this way?”  
  
“No…” Cas mewled, eyes sliding shut as Dean rubbed his thighs, “God, no…”  
  
Cas’s whole face flushed hot, ears burning and heart thudding with anticipation, as Dean pushed off his pants and took to mouthing at Cas’s neck. His lips locked against Cas’s collarbone, sucking hard and nibbling at the tender flesh as the young man moaned above him.  
  
Cas could feel his birdy chest heaving as he touched himself. He was so fucking hard, right now, it was insane. His hand squeezed the thick, fattened shaft of his dick, trying to cure the aching neglect his cock felt. Precum dribbled between his fingers, just making him wish that his older, more experienced partner would get inside him already. Dean chuckled softly, as if he’d read his thoughts, and dipped down to start suckling on a sensitive, rosy nipple.  
  
Cas arched upward on a throaty groan, as raw as sandpaper, and fuck if that wasn’t the hottest thing Dean had ever heard. The older man licked at Cas’s taut, flushed bud, mouthing at it gently before moving to the next one. Cas reached up and combed his fingers through Dean’s beautiful, thick brown hair, inhaling deeply to smell the dark, woodsy scent on his lover’s skin. He let his head fall back onto the bed, Dean’s strong muscled body working over his own, fervent hands searching and groping in all the right places, tongue laving over his nipple one last time.  
  
Dean reached up, letting his hand wrap around the younger one’s neck, gently holding Cas’s throat. He shivered hard, Dean thumbing over his Adam’s apple as he licked a long wet stripe over his breast. His fingers were exquisite around his throat, feeling the tendons expand and contract with each breath or turn of the head. Cas reached up and joined Dean’s hand with his own.  
  
“Long fingers.” Dean noted quietly, mouthing at his collarbone. The younger man just chuckled and tightened their grip playfully.  
  
Cas let him trace little, delicate patterns over his breast with his tongue, languidly weaving a web of warm, loving abstract movements over Cas’s skin. Hands shaped his hips and thighs, Dean holding them at his sides till Cas spread his legs more.  
  
“Dean… mmngh…” came a tiny whine from Cas’s throat, as Dean stood up and grabbed the lube from the bedside. He didn’t want to be left alone, exposed on the bed for a second more.  
  
He whimpered softly, till Dean crawled back atop him and rolled on a condom. Cas enjoyed the display, the thin rubber barrier sliding up Dean’s cock, ready for him. His hand briefly tensed around his own cock, at seeing the older man’s eyes raking up and down his form.  
  
“Eager?” Dean chuckled, watching Cas’s hand work slowly on his aching dick. Dean’s eyes sharpened when he saw that Cas was, in fact, larger than him. All thick and leaking and shit.  
  
Cas narrowed his eyes, just as he was fingering his taint. “Do I need permission?”  
  
Dean shook his head, giving him that not-quite a smile, but still so sultry. The younger man tried to calm his thundering heart, trying to clutch onto reality as Dean slowly turned him over, running his calloused hands up and down Cas’s back. He clutched at the pillow as Dean kissed down the knobs of his spine, warm plush lips welcome against his chilled skin.  
  
“You’re gorgeous, Cassie… Just beautiful.” he heard whispered against the base of his spine.  
  
Dean’s hands found the soft swell of Cas’s backside, cupping and squeezing his cheeks with great delight. It was a fine ass, perfect in its shape, just right for Dean to hold in his hands as he was tonguing down the cleft. Cas thrust his head into the pillow when Dean licked at his dry pucker, his tongue so wet, pliant, just amazing as he laved it over the tight starburst.  
  
“Fuck, Dean!” he whined, and was rewarded with a long litany of kisses and kitten-licks at his hole. He couldn’t help but mewl and whimper; his johns practically never wanted to be loving with him.  
  
His toes curled against the sheets, heart alight with something like joy as Dean started devouring his hole. Mouthwatering place of ecstasy though it was, it felt so much better when Dean was touching it. His tongue moved with practise and ease, licking up and teasing inside, so soft and perfect. The older man padded hard at his taint, making him writhe on his tongue and precum spurted from his cock. His back arched almost painfully backward, as Dean took to massaging that little space of skin. Suddenly, all he wanted was more.  
  
His pucker clenched over and over, Dean tonguing at it just right. It gave him shivers, to think he could be so easily reduced to a whimpering pile, wanton and needy. Dean’s muffled moans could be heard, as he slowly, pleasurably ate him. The way that someone enjoys the taste and texture of a juicy peach, Dean languidly feasted on the luscious ass in front of him like a starving man.  
  
It wasn’t until Cas was rocking in motion with him, that he reached for the lube. Dean slicked up a finger, and slid it in, Cas taking the stretch easily. He was shaking by the time a second was added, but it wasn’t anywhere near enough. Then, Dean was scissoring in his ass when he rubbed over Cas’s prostate, earning him a soft cry and lewd curses. Each tremble was a delicious, all-consuming quiver, from then on. Castiel just wanted his fucking man to fill him up, right the fuck now.  
  
He pushed back on Dean’s fingers, whimpering and trying to get the message across.  
  
“Dean… Now. I want it like this.” he said, as Dean slipped his fingers out. Cas turned over, onto his back. “I want it this way, Dean, wanna see you come.”  
  
Dean swallowed hard, his hand froze upon his cock. He stuttered slightly, before taking the slick and rubbing it over himself, the condom. If Cas’s cheeks were flushed, then Dean’s were smudged red; If Cas was trembling, Dean was shaking hard. The younger one could know for certain, that he wasn’t the only one scared. He then crawled atop Cas and lifted his legs over his arms. With fumbling fingers, Castiel reached down and took Dean’s cock in-hand, rubbing the head against his hole.  
  
Dean gasped softly. “Cas, you’re just… so fuckin’ hot, sweetheart.”  
  
Cas’s lips curved into a smirk, that melted into a groan as Dean pushed inside. His lover pushed past the tight ring of muscle, and speared Cas onto his length, inch by inch. Cas clutched at Dean’s shoulders, the man rubbing his chest and legs, his emerald eyes scrunching shut as he took in the tightness of Cas’s ass. Fully seated, the younger let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, relaxing onto the mattress.  
  
Dean gasped again, then started in tiny, rocking motions. Castiel tried to keep Dean focused on him, not on the shabbiness of his apartment, or the uncomfortable mattress on the floor. Just on him, and what he wanted to give.  
  
Dean combed his fingers through that hair again, mussing it prettily. “Mmmgh-- oh, Cas, you’re gorgeous.”  
  
“Shush.” Cas jested, blushing harder. “Just fuck.”  
  
Dean chuckled; he knew the feeling. He was then pounding harder, a strong rhythm in each punch of his hips, balls slapping against Cas’s ass. The younger man was touching himself, fondling his balls and rolling them in his hand, panting, as a thin layer of sweat began to form.  
  
Dean’s eyes slid shut, just taking hold of Cas’s hips and pounding that beautiful, baby-soft ass. Cas felt the amazing, tight pressure in his hole, as Dean stretched him and filled him over and over, arching hard when Dean would hit that magic button. He was clutching at the sheets, the pillows, biting his lip to stifle the loud groan that wanted to escape. Dean’s grunts were deep and raw in the heat of it, as he started hitting Cas’s prostate nice and hard.  
  
He was trembling, practically writhing on the mattress like a virgin, his good spot being abused so goddamn perfect.  
  
“Jesus-- fuck, Cas…” Dean groaned out from behind clenched teeth.  
  
“Shit…” Cas swore.  
  
The mattress springs were coiling and uncoiling, creaking loud as the two made love. In and out, over and again, countless times Dean drove himself back in. If they had a dog, he would be scratching the white paint off the apartment door trying to get out. Cas whined so loud, he was suddenly conscious of his neighbors.  
  
He spread his legs further, wrapping them tighter around Dean’s waist, his heels digging into his lover’s back. Cas squirmed roughly in bed, panting and scraping long, red nail-trails all over Dean’s shoulders and arms. Dean was biting his lip so hard, he nearly drew blood in an effort to shut up.  
  
Dean was fucking him so hard that Cas was being jostled in bed with each thrust, his heart pounding. Cas threw his head back, exposing his throat like a mating wild animal, and Dean had to grab it because, fuck-- Cas’s neck is what fantasies are created by. Cas gave a long, dirty moan, scratching Dean’s arm.  
  
“You like that? That good, baby, huh?” he was panting rough, breathless voice dark with sex. “How about this?”  
  
Dean squeezed his throat, and his eyes rolled back in his fucking skull, it was so good. He didn’t care what the neighbors thought, or about Zeke, and he didn’t care about his family. He wanted to ride Dean’s cock, and feel him squeeze his throat till it bruised, and be pounded so hard that there was an imprint of his back on the mattress. He didn’t realise he’d started jacking off, till he was close.  
  
“Dean…” he gasped, Dean’s grip tightening as they drove closer.  
  
“Jesus Christ! Cas… fuck, baby, it’s too good--” he choked, just letting loose and hammering Cas into the mattress. “So damn good, baby…”  
  
Castiel’s brain was fogging over, his body a sweaty, flushed mess as they were near the edge. “Don’t-- Don’t fucking stop!” he begged, but it came out more as a whine.  
  
Just when he thought he couldn’t take anymore, couldn’t handle a second more of choking, he tipped over the edge. He saw Dean’s eyes glaze over a moment before. Cas arched up and thrashed in a violent, full-body orgasm that ripped through him like a spray of bullets; he threw his head back in an outright yell. His vision whited out and he clenched so hard around Dean that they were suddenly both coming hard and long. Thick ropes of white cum painted his chest in spurts, slicking their bellies, and they held eachother close as they both writhed and gasped eachother’s names.  
  
Dean came shaking and rutting through his orgasm, filling up the condom with the molten fluid, and suddenly Cas wished that he’d never worn it. He wanted it to pour into him, and fill him with the sticky whiteness that was Dean’s own, but the blinding climax would have to be enough.  
  
When their bodies stopped quivering and the cum had stopped spurting, when he had realised that it was finished, Cas was able to breathe again. He was able to let go of his cock, and stop clawing at Dean’s shoulder. Dean was able to relinquish Cas’s bruised, raw throat, and take in a gasping breath. Dean slipped out his softening dick, Castiel’s legs hitting the bed with a thud.  
  
“Cas… Cas, I’m so sorry-- Oh, my God…” Dean said, when he realised the shape his neck was in. Purpling and reddened bruises were across his throat like a band, where Dean had been choking him for the later half of their lovemaking. “I’m so sorry, baby-- did I hurt you?”  
  
“No, ’m fine…” he mumbled, all woozy, sleepy and sated. His eyes wouldn’t focus, but he knew that his stomach was painted a gluppy white, and his lower half hurt like Hell. But it was worth it to have it this way; He’d seen Dean’s face when he came, the painful tension before a dramatic release and long-desired gush. That was what he wanted.  
  
Dean slipped out of the condom and tied it off, tossing it into the trash. He grabbed his boxers and cleaned them up, wiping off the puddle of cum from Cas’s belly.  
  
And so there Castiel laid, naked and sleepy on his mattress in the centre of his apartment, a beautiful lover slinking into bed beside him. The two of them dozed and chuckled, musing over their escapade. This is what sex was supposed to be like. It wasn’t a dirty, two-minute fuck in a car; it was a passionate love affair between two partners in an apartment across town.  
  
That was what put a smile on his face as he slept.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
When Dean woke up the next morning atop Cas’s mattress, Castiel heard him groan softly from the other room, as he was brushing his teeth. He held the towel to himself as he peeked out the door. Dean was stretching sleepily atop his mattress, a small moan escaping the man’s lips. Cas smiled to himself as he continued brushing. There was truly nothing more precious than a thirtysomething man, well-built and scruffy, to sprawl out like a kitten atop sex-mussed bedsheets.  
  
Perhaps ‘precious’ wasn’t the right word, but it was close enough to what Castiel felt. He loved seeing other people happy. His mind may have wandered, but his heart was in the right place. Cas finished in the bathroom, and walked out to see Dean.  
  
“Dean, you awake there?” he murmured, and he was rewarded with an actual eye-opening. He smiled warmly at him. “Hey, handsome.”  
  
“Hey, yourself.” he mumbled back. “Damn, you’re gorgeous.”  
  
Cas shook his head, eyes just as sleepy as Dean’s. “Dean, it’s too early.”  
  
“I know... I know.” Dean sighed wistfully. It appeared he was out of luck, for now. Cas smiled to himself, as Dean threw one arm over his face, blocking the sunlight. It definitely appeared that his amour wasn’t a morning person.  
  
“Hey, so… I’ve gotta get to work.” Cas said finally, and Dean looked at him seriously. “So, if you might lock up behind me when you leave, that’d be…”  
  
“No, no, no. You’re not.” Dean argued, looking astonished at what Castiel was proposing, right now. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked him straight in the eye. “You’re not gonna go back to your corner, and sell yourself; I won’t let you.”  
  
“Dean…”  
  
“It’s not safe, there. There’s-- There’s freaks, Cas! You live in a freaky neighborhood, okay?” he was exclaiming, “There’s that psycho Abbie bitch, and then there’s the guy who attacked you yesterday. Who, by the way, I will find and kill.”  
  
“Oh, you’ll kill him?” Cas jested, quirking an eyebrow at a very convincing Dean. He nodded enthusiastically. Cas sat down on the bed, right beside Dean, who automatically rubbed his shoulder.  
  
“Damn right I will. I’ll cut his fucking heart out, and serve it to you.” he said. His eyes downcast, he bit his lip frustratedly. Dean just seemed so exasperated with Cas’s tedious, self-selling lifestyle. Dean reached out and clasped his hands around his, eyes awake and bright with a protective fervor. “I care about you, Cas. I’d kill to make sure you’re safe.”  
  
“Well, regardless of protection, I still need to make money.” Cas said, giving Dean’s palm a kiss before getting to his knees. “Okay?”  
  
Without waiting for an answer, Cas started gathering some fairly-clean clothes he’d set aside for upcoming workdays. Dean was oddly silent as he pulled on his underwear and jeans, eyes low, dark. A kind of concentration and thought was circling the air. Just as he was buckling his jeans, Cas glanced at Dean. The older man looked up at him.  
  
“You wouldn’t have to, y’know.” he said quietly, “I mean… You could come with me. I-I could take you to see Sam, and his wife, Jess. You know, they’re having a baby.”  
  
Castiel’s heart fluttered at the mention of a baby. “Really?”  
  
“Yeah, Cas… I mean, really.” he said, sitting up.  
  
Cas quirked his head, squinting at him. “You usually take one-night stands on a road trip?”  
  
“Doesn’t have to be a one-night thing. Could be… whatever.” he proposed. “And if things don’t work out, I could always dump you in some town.”  
  
Cas chuckled. “I suppose you could. If you really wanted to.” he said softly.  
  
“Hey… I protected your honor, didn’t I?”  
  
“Pssh.” Cas scoffed, pulling on a sweater for now. He crawled back into bed with Dean, wriggling into his waiting arms, where he was cuddled and kissed. “For someone like you, Dean, you sure fall in love fast.”  
  
“Don’t blame me for this.” Dean jested, planting a kiss right in the center of Cas’s forehead. It was wet and warm, like so many other things about Dean. Tender. “Besides. I’d love to have you around, no joke.”  
  
Castiel smiled right below Dean, leaning into his embrace and laying his head on his shoulder. He mused over the fact that it would probably be his most stable housing situation in… forever. He knew Dean was waiting for an answer.  
  
“Maybe I _will_ come.” he murmured near Dean’s ear, as he tapped his fingers on his arm. “Then you can teach me how to drive.”

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys, so please leave a comment on what you thought :) hope you enjoyed this little fic. <3


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